


the world goes blue

by miss_echidna



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, sometimes u just have to write hc to survive u know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 10:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_echidna/pseuds/miss_echidna
Summary: Jadzia is beaming, and Kira can feel the excitement rolling off of her in waves. Despite herself, Kira finds herself caught up in her contagious mood, her stomach fluttering a little, the way it might do when she lands a shuttle.Jadzia and Kira go on an away mission. Kira's trying to keep her feelings secret. It ends up how you'd probably expect.





	the world goes blue

**Author's Note:**

> here lies _the world goes blue_ , the iddiest fic i've ever written.

“Don’t hate me,” Jadzia says, the Replimat abuzz around them. “But I have an idea.” She looks unusually earnest for being in an ideas mood, eyes wide and placating, but Kira knows better. The last time Jadzia had an idea, the door to Kira’s quarters was jammed open for a week.

Kira, however, being in line to get lunch and thus in a good mood, humours her. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll bite.”

“Ready?”

Kira nods.

“A working shore leave.”

_A working shore leave. So, she means just working._

Jadzia may be one of her closest friends on the station, her excitable moods easily contagious, but Kira can’t help but feel that this is one of her less than stellar ideas. She tells her as much.

Jadzia knocks her shoulder into Kira’s, teasing. “Listen, there’s a Gamma system the science department has been itching to survey—binary stars, almost at the end of their lives—and there’s this one planet, you’ll love it. It’s hot, there are rivers everywhere, and the _plant life_ , Kira! That’s what we’re studying.”

“So, when you call it working shore leave…”

“I mean we’re going to be dropped off, no contact with the Defiant for at least five hours. We get the work done, find a river, go for a dip.” Jadzia is beaming, and Kira can feel the excitement rolling off of her in waves. Despite herself, Kira finds herself caught up in her contagious mood, her stomach fluttering a little, the way it might do when she lands a shuttle.

It’s tempting. It is. But she really shouldn’t. Kira’s feelings for Jadzia, so far, have been a manageable secret. If she did this, she couldn’t begin to predict what would happen. And Jadzia is such a good friend, she doesn’t deserve to be burdened with all of her feelings. “I don’t know,” she says. “It’s just, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a scientist. I don’t particularly get the use.” She thinks maybe Dax might be displeased with her but she just rolls her eyes affectionately.

“The use?” Jadzia says. “Of plants?”

Kira nods.

She waves her arm to someone further down the replicator line. “Hey, Julian!” Jadzia’s voice, clear when speaking at a normal volume, cuts easily through the din of the lunchtime rush. “How important would you say plants are?”

Kira slaps her arm. She knows where Dax is going with this, and she doesn’t like it. A few spots down the line, though, Julian lights up at his chance to oblige her. “Well, in Earth’s history, at least, through plants we discovered a lot of significant chemicals necessary in medicine in order to—”

Kira cuts him off with a wave. “Thank you, Doctor, but you’re being used to prove a point.” She turns back to Jadzia, placating. “I don’t know,” she says. “Why would you even take me anyway? You don’t need two command level officers for a survey mission like this—especially one without a science background.” It’s true. It’s a standard research mission. Despite the fact that they’d be alone on the planet, Jadzia could have her pick of her scientist subordinates, Militia and Starfleet both, to carry her gear and set up sensors—and, yes, enjoy the sun with her. Yet, she approached Kira with all the enthusiasm of Julian in his first year on the station, asking for _her_ instead.

Jadzia takes her hands. “What do you mean you don’t know? It’s _working shore leave,_ Kira.” Kira can’t look at her directly. “Please just consider it, okay? It’ll be fun! Just us girls.” Then, teasing: “Well, us and the plants, anyway.”

Just existing this close to her, hands in her hands, Kira has to remind herself to breathe. She knows, logically, that Jadzia doesn’t mean it the way she wants her to mean it. But the part of her that is hopeful, that is brave, can’t be silenced with logic. Is it so bad, she thinks, to pretend that she does? That she lives for the little touches between them just as much as Kira? That ‘just us girls’ could be the invitation she wants it to be?

Jadzia releases her with a gentle squeeze and moves up the line, motioning for Kira to use the replicator before her.

It will be a test, Kira decides, to last five hours on a deserted planet with the woman she loves.

“Okay,” she says. She tucks all romantic thought away where it can’t be touched.  “I’ll come.”

.

From Jadzia’s loving descriptions of the planet, Kira knew it was going to be warm. She knew it was going to be humid. This particular planet, however, seems to stretch whatever ability she had to withstand the heat to the absolute limit. The air is so thick and still, Kira gets the distinct impression that if she raises her hand she would cut through it like jelly.

After fifteen minutes on the planet, Dax’s uniform is already unzipped down to her navel, exposing her tight grey undershirt and the sweat pooling in the dip of her neck. Jadzia catches her looking, and Kira immediately averts her gaze, a blush rushing to her chest.

“Hot enough for you?” Dax asks.

There’s not much in her phrasing that says that she’s talking about the weather.

Kira makes an embarrassed, non-committal noise and waves her hand as if to say _what can you do?_ Her eyes stay on her work. After all, she _could_ wish that she was back on the Defiant, which has long since departed the planet surveying a nice, easy nebula. She _could_ wish that she was still basking in the sweet, sweet cold of the Defiant’s environmental controls. No matter how hot it is, however, and how awkward it is, Kira knows that if Jadzia’s not with her, there’s not many other places she’d rather be.

.

“Okay,” Dax says, handing her the tricorder. They’re both cross-legged on the forest floor, sweat edging onto the fabric of their shirts. The beating warmth of the twin suns disperses slightly beneath the leaves of the trees they sit under. Jadzia has long since piled her hair up and knotted it high on the crown of her head. Her exposed neck makes Kira break out into a different kind of sweat.

Jadzia taps the screen. “Wave it around and tell me if this turns red.”  

It doesn’t turn red, but Kira hangs onto the tricorder anyway. The planet’s temperature is printed innocently in the corner and the shock of it makes Kira look up suddenly to study Jadzia. It’s a wonder how the Trill is still upright, let alone taking notes and samples. Bajorans may run warmer than most but even this planet is testing Kira, a headache edging in at her temples, and Trill run cooler than anyone on the station.

Kira nudges Jadzia’s side with her elbow, looking up at her. “Hey,” she says, “are you okay?”

Jadzia smiles faintly, not looking away from her tricorder. “I’m fine, why?”

“You, uh.” Kira blinks. “You haven’t made a joke in a while. It’s pretty hot.”

A pause. “You mean I’m hot when I’m serious?”

“No!” Kira barks a laugh. “I mean—I don’t know! I meant—“

Jadzia rests a hand on Kira’s, placating. Her eyes are bright. “I know what you meant. I’m fine. And you’re way too easy to fluster.”

Kira doesn’t think about _why_ she’s so easy to fluster. She doesn’t. Instead, she plucks a leaf from the ground and focuses very carefully on tearing it into even shreds. The leaves are tacky, sticky with sap, and her fingers soon attract what feels like every particle of soil in her near vicinity. It’s uncomfortable, but she was in the resistance, after all, and she can handle a bit of dirt.

Right up until Jadzia notices.

“Nope,” she says. “You are _not_ touching my sensors with _those_ fingers, Kira.” She points to the bag. “There are wipes in there, help yourself.”

Kira rifles through the bag, the wipes having sunk almost to the bottom, and notices that they’re both almost out of water, too. Wiping her hands clean, Kira takes the bottles, a purifying funnel, and a water toxicity measure out of the bag. She gets to her feet.

“We’re almost out of water. Where’s the nearest source?”

“There’s a river about 12 minutes east.”

“Okay. Any special requests?”

Jadzia looks up. “Can you make it not taste like gross alien water?”

“I wish I could,” Kira says, and she’s smiling when she walks away.

 

.

 

Nerys is a child of Bajor, of the Prophets, but there is something to be said for the way new planets make her feel cradled in the palm of a loving, chaotic universe. The trees, lending shade right up into the shoreline, feel like they was made just for her. The water is a washed out cerulean blue, almost white, and when she tests it, it’s perfectly safe for both of them to drink.

It’s strange, but every new planet she goes to reminds her of home. There’s not much water in Dakhur—it’s more vegetation than ocean—but the quiet serenity, the way land is land no matter where she is in the universe, gives her immeasurable peace. She wonders if Jadzia feels that way, if the plants she studies are just a reminder that there are plants at home, if the water speaks to her like symbiont pools call to Dax.

She’s made such a fool of herself today, Kira thinks. First rejecting Jadzia’s offer, then being unable to refuse; she’s been obvious and embarrassing. She used to be so much better at hiding her feelings. It used to be this horrible game—don’t tell anyone your secrets because a secret isn’t a secret once it’s been told—but she’s gotten sloppy, and Jadzia’s recognised that there’s something she’s keeping hidden. That there’s something she can fluster her about.

Kira takes a few moments to feel the sand in her palms, the water in her fingerprints. It’s odd, the water here is freezing cold even though the suns seem to beat down near constantly. Kira makes a mental note to show Jadzia, it might be able to relieve her in this heat. But then—is that making it too obvious? No, they’re _friends;_  it’s something a friend would do, Kira decides, and, after all, Jadzia would love the mystery of it.

Kira stands, the water dripping from her fingernails, memorising the feeling of _home_ in her sternum, and, bottles in hand, she walks back to Dax.

She’s going to be better, she thinks. She’s going to be a friend and no more. No blushing, no games, no more being flustered. A real friend wouldn’t push this onto her. A real friend wouldn’t—

“Dax?”

She’s on the ground, asleep it looks like, cheeks pink and sweat running down her face in beads. Kira makes a move for her pulse, feather light and fast, and then pulls up her uniform top to feel Dax. The symbiont is restless, turning and undulating under the skin, which Kira knows isn’t good. The back of her hand finds Jadzia’s forehead, and her suspicions confirm themselves. She’s very, very warm.

It’s hard for her not to panic. She was never a medic, in the resistance. There, everyone knew bits and pieces—they had to. She learned the basics: first aid, treating a phaser burn, what helped to ease the pain. She’s never treated anyone for heatstroke, she never had to. Jadzia needs a _real_ medic. The _Defiant_ , however, won’t return until nightfall at least. She looks around, desperately. _Anything, give me anything to help her._ Her eyes land on the bottles, sitting gently a few metres away where she dropped them in her haste to get to Jadzia. She has to get to the river.

Kira packs the bag with the bottles, the purification equipment, and the tricorders, and hoists it onto her shoulder. Then, gently, gently, she lifts Jadzia with one arm beneath her legs and the other supporting her back.

 _It’s my fault,_ she thinks. _I shouldn’t have left her._

There was no denying that Dax had been wilting in the heat all morning. The planet was definitely hotter than initial scans had predicted. Kira had been so _stupid_ not to have done anything _._ She’s a senior officer, and her friend, and yet she ignored every single warning sign on this mission so far. Any chance that Kira might have dreamed of with Jadzia, any chance at all, suddenly seems much more distant than ever before. If Dax can’t trust that Kira will look after her on a mission, how could she ever trust anything else?

Jadzia’s forehead nudges against her shoulder as Kira walks, and she can’t help but steal glances at her as she finishes their trek to the bank of the river. Jadzia’s eyelashes are long, casting shadows on the milky white of her skin and Kira looks away, body flushing with heat.

At the bank of the river, Kira kneels onto the rocky shoreline, resting Jadzia on the sand. The zipper of her Starfleet jacket gives way easily and, careful not to jostle her, she slowly runs her hands beneath the shoulder seams and lets the jacket fall away. Jadzia’s boots slip away easily and she peels her socks off as well before sliding her legs into the water. If—when—she wakes up, she’d hold it over Kira for life if her socks had gotten wet.

Having finally taken some action, Kira relaxes into the act of keeping Jadzia cool. Jadzia doesn’t stir while she fusses, her eyes are still shut, her muscles relaxed. Kira sits with Jadzia’s head pillowed in the crook of her elbow, and takes a handful of water into her palm, letting it run over her spots. The drops spread into her hair and Kira brushes them away affectionately with the back of her hand. A swell of tenderness builds in her chest. She’s been trying so hard to keep her feelings for Jadzia hidden—they’re more trouble out in the open rather than inside her, where she can control them—but it’s difficult when the woman she loves is in her arms, dependent.

After a time, Jadzia stirs, pushing her head softly into the palm of Nerys’ hand. When she opens her eyes, Kira’s fingers are tangled in her hair.

“What happened?” her voice is rough, like it’s morning, like she’s just woken up. Kira thinks of early mornings with her, of holding her beneath the blankets.

She removes her hand from Jadzia. “You collapsed. It’s too hot.” Kira brushes off the sand from her knees, and puts some distance between them. Pretends to ignore Jadzia’s eyes as they follow her.

Jadzia swallows thickly, sitting up on her elbows. “Did you,” she looks around, her boots and jacket lying on the shore, Kira’s sweat edging onto the collar of her jumpsuit. “I didn’t walk here myself, did I?”

Kira wants desperately to busy herself with something, anything, to keep her hands occupied and her eyes off Jadzia’s. Her stomach swims. “I carried you,” she says.

Jadzia’s eyes dart to the arms that carried her. “Well, thanks,” she says, smiling. Then: “This was meant to be fun. Sorry.”

“Shush,” Kira says. “That doesn’t matter. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she says, “Definitely. In fact, mind if I go for a dip?” Her feet kick out at the water, splashing. “We _were_ planning on it anyway.”

“Now?” Kira had not thought this through. In her mind, the swimming part of their ‘shore leave’ was always slightly abstract; she didn’t quite think it would actually _happen._ Now, the thought of Jadzia wearing anything less than what she is currently makes her pulse jump. _Does she_ know _what she’s doing to me?_ She nods jerkily. “If you like—if you, if you think that would help.”

“I think it would,” she says, “We’ve got to salvage this trip somehow.”

Her words, however, are slightly more confident than her body is. She pushes herself up to stand but wobbles dangerously, unsteady. Giving up, she relaxes and cocks her head in defeat. “I could use a hand.”

Kira laughs, a breath pushed out between her teeth. She takes Jadzia’s hands, feeling the soft skin around her thumbs, and hoists her to her feet. Finally steady, Dax pulls at the hem of her undershirt. Kira averts her gaze, suddenly finding that pushing the sand around beneath her feet is imperative to the mission.

“Are you not coming in, too?”

She shakes her head. “I might just sit on the sand, if that’s okay. Make sure you don’t drown.”

Jadzia’s eyes rest on hers a beat too long. “Okay,” she says. Turning away, she bounces to her toes and runs into the river, white water splashing up around her. _Of course,_ Kira thinks, smiling, _of course she has to make the biggest splash._

“It’s really cold!” she whines, once she’s up to her chest. She’s beaming in delight. “Even for _me!_ ” And Kira knows, she _knows_ she shouldn’t go in. She’s in love with her best friend, it would be taking advantage, it would mean something different to her, it would be unfair. But she does it anyway. She kicks off her boots and socks and peels off her uniform, folding it all in a pile on top of her shoes to keep the sand off.

And then she steps in.

Gooseflesh rises on her skin the second her toes meet the water. As she approaches Jadzia, who watches her entry with interest, she struggles to suppress a shiver. Having the other woman’s eyes on her is too much, after the rollercoaster that has been today, and she dives under the water, the world going blue.

It helps, to be under the water for a moment, to gather herself. When Kira surfaces, she’s adjusted to the temperature of the water and found the peace she’d had here earlier. “Does the water help?” she asks. Her hand seems to move to the spots on Dax’s forehead of its own accord, checking the Trill’s temperature with a practised touch. “You still seem a bit warm.”

“I’m better, now that you’re in here.”

Kira laughs, turning away. There’s a fine line between banter and flirting for Jadzia and Kira’s learned how she treads it. She swallows her feelings and looks back, ready to make some snappy reply.

And Jadzia isn’t laughing. “Oh,” Kira says, letting the shock tumble through her. “You’re being serious.”

Jadzia takes her hands in hers, not looking away. The butterflies in Kira’s stomach gain energy, and she stands stock still, afraid that if she moves even slightly, the moment will shatter.

“Jadzia,” she says, a warning. Whatever is happening, she’s not ready. She’s not. She’s only barely come to terms with how she feels about her friend, and now she’s being, what, lead on? “What are you doing?” Jadzia’s hands squeeze hers and let go, finding her waist and pulling her close. It’s too much, Kira thinks. _It’s too much._

Jadzia cocks her head. “You asked me why there needed to be two command level officers on this mission.”

It all clicks into place.

“You—You?” For all that her brain is working overtime, Kira can’t get the words out. “All this time?”

Jadzia nods. She pulls herself closer, whispering, despite the fact that on this planet, they are very, very alone. “Kira,” she shakes her head. “Nerys. I really, _really_ like you.”

The teasing, the flustering, it makes sense. She suddenly feels very obtuse.

When they kiss, finally, it’s slow. It’s a pressure cooker. The closer they are together, the more urgent they become. Kira’s nails dig into the space between Jadzia’s shoulder blades, and the noise of delight Jadzia makes in response pulls at something in Kira’s chest. She’s been wanting this for so long, been talking herself down and preparing for rejection, and now she gets to feel Jadzia’s skin on hers in a way that can’t be passed off as affection between friends. Now, she gets to love her aloud. She kept it all inside, all of it, where it could be hers and hers only, where Jadzia would never have to learn of it, and now it’s outside of her, and she can’t control it, and she _loves_ it.

She loves it.

**Author's Note:**

> shouts out to a) the server for letting me rant abt my overuse of italics and b) google drive for letting me change the doc background to black so i could keep typing without hurting my eyes. y'all are mvps.


End file.
